


Campfire Stories

by hauntedbytears



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Ficlet, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-01-14
Packaged: 2018-05-13 22:46:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5719813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedbytears/pseuds/hauntedbytears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vaguely based on a tumblr post<br/>Sometimes, in purgatory, the monsters gathered for safety speak of the angel and human who had landed there by mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Campfire Stories

There’s a legend in purgatory, which should be ironic. It was, after all, the place where myths and superstitions went when they passed, either via hunter or simply each other. The place pure of everything but the fight and flight through the tangled trees and twisted bushes.

It’s been months since the man who started the legend had been there, or possibly more. After all, time does not matter much in this realm, with its bleached overtones and its simplicity a beauty in itself.

The groups of monsters, gathered for strength in number yet side glancing each other at every opportunity, sometimes huddle in clearings during what passes for night in the sunless place. Clutching their makeshift weapons close to their bloodstained clothing, gathered from every time period, they whisper about the human that had once ended up here, all gorgeous green eyes and warm blood pumping through his veins. Dean Winchester.

He had landed here with an angel and a leviathan, and their arrival had sent shockwaves through the grey forest. But soon they’d separated, and most of them had opted to ignore Winchester in order to chase the angel, Castiel, the being chock-full of the grace and power that shone to them. However, some still followed Dean, his humanity beautiful and dangerous.

The next time they really paid full attention to Dean, he was asking after the angel, accompanied by a vamp, a thing like them which had later been taken back to Earth. Earth, with its humans and its burning colours.

Sometimes the speaker paused there, to bask in the memory of that planet. Eyes almost closed, but never completely in case one of the others decided to catch them off guard, they breathe in, almost as if they could detect traces of the fresh, hot prey.

They speak most about how fervently he searched for his angel. None had escaped Dean’s interrogations, but those who had opted to watch from the shadows speak of cocky smirks and flaring eyes, and, according to a djinn who had barely escaped with her life, bitter, bitter concern in his blood and something else buried just a little too deep.

They also say that the air was sweet when he finally finds Castiel, and so much more so in the nights, when they hold each other close with weapons still in hand. Two djinn had actually pounced without planning, unable to resist the call of human blood, sweet as they’d only tasted in the blood of their victims in a past life, victims lost in their own prospects of a perfect universe. They had been killed, obviously, and weren’t the last to go, the lure of angel grace and human flesh overshadowing the dangers of the experienced hunter, powerful angel, and dangerous vampire. After all, what does a while in what is essentially limbo add up to compared with the possibility of a taste of all that _sweetness_ and _grace_?

But the djinn accounts of the smell of his blood perhaps weren’t to be trusted, after all, they had surely exaggerated the moment after when the angel had chosen to stay. They say that the clearing still smells of heartbreak, despite the great amounts of blood and goo that had been spilt there since.

There is a legend in purgatory, of a beautiful hunter with brilliant green eyes who befriended a vampire and loved an angel.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 2am, a small ficlet that is vaguely destiel


End file.
